hold me in your arms
by katanafleet
Summary: "The fake you showed me, again, that I can't lose you. It destroyed me. I have to keep you safe, you and William. No matter what Adrian said, everything about failing to save everyone and enjoying killing and everything else, losing you and William scares me the most." He turned his head into her hair and murmured, "I have to keep you out of the darkness." [reaction to 6x18]


Oliver smelled like strawberry-vanilla body wash.

It wasn't bad, exactly, just unexpected, given that she was pretty sure he wasn't out of his normal basically-scent-less stuff. He only used hers when he was out or when he'd had a completely terrible day and needed the extra comfort of… smelling like his wife.

 _Guess which one it was today_ , Felicity thought as she rolled into her husband's side and curled up, ready for sleep. Oliver sighed and tugged her a little closer, but he didn't relax.

Her brain decided sleep was not a priority. Oliver had had a terrible day; hers hadn't been too great aside from the science fair; they needed to talk.

"What were the hallucinations of?" Felicity whispered into Oliver's chest.

She felt him tense, the muscle beneath her head rippling slightly. He didn't stop running his fingers through her hair, though, so she figured the same thing was running through his head.

He took a deep breath, and she could feel him pulling away, just a little. Nope, not tonight, she wasn't going to let him hide. She had decided that they would talk, much as neither of them would enjoy the conversation. "Tell me," she murmured. It wasn't quite a demand, more like a very calm request for honesty. That was what she'd call it if she had to define it.

"Adrian Chase."

He lapsed back into silence as she shivered. Of all images for his mind to choose—then she heard the _but that's not all_ his tone didn't mean to add. "What else, Oliver?"

He took another deep breath. "Diaz, for a minute. Raisa. But mostly you. I saw you, in the bunker." Felicity tucked herself a little closer, hoping beyond all logical hope that Oliver would continue talking without prompting. Thankfully, he did. "You stood there, knowing exactly what I'd done and who I was. Like always. But I asked how William was, and you said he wouldn't leave his room." His voice cracked, shattered along a fault line of despair. "That he'd finally seen what kind of man his father was."

Felicity felt her heart twist. "Oliver—"

"You said we needed to take some space, because I wasn't the man you married."

Felicity leaned up on her elbow to stare at him. His right hand tightened on her left, not letting go, almost squeezing too tightly. The room was dark, except for the light coming from the crack under the door. It was just enough light to see the sparkle of tears in his eyes. He ran his thumb over her ring, caressing it, and a terrible thought occurred to her. "Was I wearing my ring? The hallucination, I mean."

He shook his head slowly. "Vertigo is very thorough, and I have an imagination." And that was answer enough.

Felicity didn't really know what to say. "That's why you said I left. The hallucination. Your brain told you I was going to leave you."

"I didn't know if it was real, Felicity. I knew after a while that Adrian wasn't real, but I thought you… maybe you had been. It made sense, I deserved what you said, and—"

"You did _not_ —"

His voice was emotionless. "I scared William. You told me to go. I deserved every word."

"I was confused and a little angry, I had to calm William down, and you were a bit off the rails. Can you blame me for that one?"

He shook his head slowly. "I was out of line, and I knew it. But it didn't help when you—the hallucination, whatever—appeared half an hour later saying you wanted to get a separation. So I went a bit…"

Felicity tried to smile. "Crazy? Insane? Trying to get Diaz with no back-up and with basically brainwashed police in the way? Speaking of which, we're going to talk about the whole firing-Overwatch thing—"

"Thank you, by the way, for saving me there." He finally met her eyes again as he deftly ignored the prompt, and there was a tiny bit of relief, maybe a smile, in his eyes again.

"You're my husband," she replied simply, stroking his jaw for a second. "There was no choice to make."

They were quiet for a moment. Felicity still didn't really know what to say—what _do_ you say to your husband who's just spent the day under the influence of a hallucinogenic drug that led to poor decisions and an even more destroyed self-esteem? And if he wasn't going to talk about the fact that he'd basically put her out of a job—

"With all of this, though, I realized something." He tilted his head and stared up at her like he was memorizing her face again.

"What?" Her elbow was suddenly tired of holding her up and Oliver's arm was looking really inviting. She cuddled back into his side and he pulled her closer. He still didn't let go of her left hand.

"Adrian reminded me of all of my worst insecurities, tried to get me to kill him and then acted as the devil on my shoulder for a few hours after I did kill him, even once I realized he wasn't real." That was a messed up sentence, and Felicity was almost concerned about the fact that she understood it. "Diaz was in the apartment, and he told me, again, that I wasn't enough for this city and you and William. Both of them stabbed me, by the way, Adrian and Diaz."

"I need to have someone look into the components of Vertigo, see why the hallucinations get that vivid—"

"But you were the first one, the first hallucination. The fake you showed me, _again_ , that I can't lose you. It destroyed me. I have to keep you safe, you and William. No matter what Adrian said, everything about failing to save everyone and enjoying killing and everything else, losing you and William scares me the most." He turned his head into her hair and murmured, "I have to keep you out of the darkness."

"So that's why I'm fired?"

"You're not _fired_ —" Defense made his voice go up half an octave and his arms tense around her a bit more. She started again.

"So that's why you're doing this _alone_ , then. Because—"

"I _cannot_ lose you, Felicity," he repeated, his voice cracking. "I can't. Adrian tortured me for six days last year to get me to admit my worst fears. Slade Wilson, the Bratva, Damien Darhk—all of that pain would be _nothing_ to losing you. _Please_ let me protect you."

Her heart was breaking again at his desperation. Her whole chest was starting to hurt. "How is being Felicity Smoak-Queen instead of Overwatch going to protect me? I can do so much more as Overwatch, Oliver."

"I don't even know if it will," he said dully. "Everyone I've ever loved has been hurt. You've been hurt more times than I can count. Even _William_. But if you're not speaking in my ear every night and I'm not acting with anyone's help, maybe they'll think I'm alone. That I don't have anyone they could go after."

He pulled away a little, just enough to meet her eyes again. _Please please please_ , the tears in his eyes and the tension in his jaw read. _Please, please let me do this_.

And that's when Felicity decided something. She would never stop watching out for him. She would always keep tabs on the trackers she'd put in his shoes, his bow, everywhere she could think of. But she would give him this. She would let her husband go out alone every day and night, to keep his mind at rest. For now. Until Adrian Chase's words left his mind.

"Okay," she whispered, one of her own tears escaping. Oliver was visibly relieved, at least a third of the tension in his shoulders melting away. He leaned forward and kissed her quickly. "One thing," she said before he could thank her or anything like that. "Every day, every night, you'll remember something."

"Anything."

"You said earlier tonight that William has me, in case something happens. He always has me, he'll never be alone, I promise. And I have him, and that means so much to me. But you will not forget, Oliver Queen, that we need you too. And you will _always_ come home to us." She pressed a finger over his mouth to stop his reassurance. "I told William once that there's no guarantee you'll always come home, but you'll do your best, and we have to believe in you. And I do, for him and for me. So help me keep that promise, and remember that if you do a _single_ stupid thing, I'm coming back. Overwatch is coming back."

"Felicity—"

"I need you too." She held back another tear. "So promise me."

He pressed his forehead to hers and sighed. He pulled her hand up and kissed her knuckles, lingering. "I do."

The next day, Oliver Queen smelled like strawberry-vanilla body wash. They woke up late, but there was nowhere to go. They stayed in bed too long, kissing and talking about nothing and hoping William didn't burn breakfast.

When they got to the kitchen at last, William turned around from the stovetop and sniffed, wrinkling his nose, when Oliver stepped up behind him to check on the scrambled eggs. Felicity leaned on the back of the couch, watching her boys banter about the quality of the eggs and the weirdness of smelling like a girl all day.

It would kill her every night, knowing that Oliver going out alone. She'd watch her tablet for hours in between William's homework and Helix. She would protect him, however she could.

Oliver turned to look at her, the sparkle in his eye fading for a moment. Felicity stepped forward to stand with them, kissing Oliver's cheek before pushing him forward to take William's place at the stove. William laughed and Oliver pretended to pout as Felicity pulled William toward the TV and whatever video game he wanted to play.

She would bear the worry and concern if it meant the boys she loved so much got to keep the happiness in their faces.


End file.
